Chapter 10: A Quiet Evening In
The judge's gavel came down one final time, and the sound echoed through the chamber like the closing of a massive door. The verdict was simple, clean, devastating for Alban: stripped of his title, bound to the mortal realm for a century, and forbidden from wielding the Key of Shared Breath ever again. Aemelia had already swept out, her frost trailing behind her, and Roger the Unmaking had tipped his fedora to Judy before wandering off toward the Everglades in search of that coconut sorbet.
And just like that, the courtroom began to empty. People filed out in clusters, whispering amongst themselves, casting glances back at the Williamsons like they were celebrities who'd just survived a plane crash. Mandy caught her mother's eye across the room and grinned, a wobbly, exhausted thing that said everything and nothing all at once.
They were all whisked back to their homes in a shimmer of transport magic. Jan handled the heavier lifting—a wave of her hand, a muttered phrase in something that sounded like Irish but wasn't quite, and suddenly the Florida heat replaced the stale air of the Unseelie Court.
They materialized on the beach outside Judy's condo complex, the ocean breeze salty and warm against their faces. Casey let out a long, shuddering breath, her hand finding Mike's and squeezing tight.
"I never want to be a statue again," she said. "That was—" She shook her head, unable to find the words. "That was horrible."
"You were an excellent statue, though," Mike said, his voice light but his eyes wet. "Very lifelike. Limp wrist and all."
Casey laughed, a broken sound, and pulled him into a fierce embrace.
Judy, already unlocking the glass door to the lobby, turned back to look at them. Her makeup was smudged from crying, a fact she'd deny under oath. "You two are crashing here tonight. I have a spare room with an ocean view, and I'll have no arguments."
Mike opened his mouth. Judy held up a hand.
"No. You will sleep in a real bed. You will eat real food. And in the morning, you will video call your children and make sure they're all okay, because Mandy is going to be insufferable with worry until she hears your voice."
"Judy—" Casey started.
Judy's expression softened. "Case. You were a statue. You were a goddamn statute for two days. You're staying here. That's final."
Mandy, who had been hovering nearby with Ben's arm wrapped around her shoulders, stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her mother's cheek. "She's right, Mom. You need to rest. We'll be at the beach house, and I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
Casey's eyes glistened. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Mike watched his daughter lead the younger crowd away—Ben, Mai, Felicity, Bruce, Rick, Stacy, Beth, Marty, Kim, Maryam—until they were just silhouettes against the deepening sunset. His heart ached with something that was equal parts pride and melancholy.
"They grow up so fast," he murmured.
Casey elbowed him. "You're such a dad."
"That's because I am one."
Judy herded them into the elevator, and they rode up in comfortable silence, the weight of the last few days slowly beginning to lift. When the doors opened, Judy's condo wrapped around them like a warm embrace—sleek and modern, all glass walls and polished concrete floors, but with little touches of home: a knitted throw draped over the back of the sofa, photographs of Casey and Judy as children, a ceramic bowl of seashells on the coffee table.
"Make yourselves at home," Judy said, already heading for the kitchen. "I've got mojito fixings, and I know a place that delivers Cuban food this late. You want pork, Mike?"
"Mike wants everything," Casey said, collapsing onto the plush white sofa with a groan of pure relief. "But especially the pork."
Judy laughed and pulled out her phone. "Pork it is. And I'm calling Mara. She texted to make sure you were okay, and I think she and Zack would love to decompress with us."
Casey sat up, her eyes brightening. "Really? You think they'd come?"
"Are you kidding?" Judy was already texting, her fingers flying across the screen. "Mara's was pacing her hotel room for hours waiting for your trial to begin. Zack's been reading the most boring research papers he could find to keep himself calm. They need to relax. They'll be here in twenty minutes."
Mike, who had been examining the view from the balcony doors, turned back with a grin. "I like Zack. He asked me about my IT work at the wedding, and we ended up talking for an hour about network security vulnerabilities."
"Of course you did," Casey said fondly. "You're both giant nerds."
"Casey, we're all giant nerds. You're just a nerd who can paint."
She threw a throw pillow at him. He caught it, laughing, and the sound felt like a release valve opening after too much pressure.
Mara and Zack arrived exactly eighteen minutes later, Mara carrying a bottle of expensive tequila and Zack carrying a stack of take-out containers that smelled like heaven. They moved through the condo with the ease of old friends, hugging Mike and Casey tightly, their faces etched with relief.
"Mara," Casey said, pulling back to look at her, "you were magnificent in there. Absolutely magnificent."
Mara waved a dismissive hand, but her eyes were pleased. "I'll have my bill sent to the Unseelie Court. The invoice should cover the therapy I'm going to need after watching Mandy and that agent go at it on a courtroom table."
Casey burst out laughing, the sound bright and genuine. "Oh my God, I completely forgot about that."
"I haven't," Zack said, settling the food on the coffee table and opening containers with practiced efficiency. "I don't think I'm going to forget it for a long time. That was—" He paused, searching for the right word. "That was something."
"That was Jan's best friend's daughter," Mara corrected, but she was grinning. "And she was magnificent too. Mandy's got a future in performance art if tech doesn't work out."
Mike, who had been helping Zack with the food, paused with a container of rice in his hand. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear my daughter described that way."
"Smart man," Judy said, appearing with a tray of mojitos, condensation beading on the glasses. "Now, everyone, drink. Eat. Remember that we're all alive and not currently made of stone."
They settled into the plush furniture, plates balanced on laps, drinks in hands. The conversation flowed easily, a balm after the tension of the trial. Mara launched into a story about a client who'd tried to pay her in enchanted chickens, and Zack chimed in with a research anecdote about a wizard who'd accidentally turned his own house invisible and spent three weeks sleeping in his garden.
Casey laughed until her sides hurt, and Mike watched her with a softness in his eyes that made Mara's chest ache. They'd been through so much—petrification, imprisonment, near-death, the constant chaos of being Jan's closest friends—and still they looked at each other like they'd just fallen in love yesterday.
"You two are disgustingly cute," Mara said, shaking her head. "It's been twenty years. Shouldn't you be sick of each other by now?"
Casey leaned into Mike's side. "Nope. He still makes me laugh. And he still puts up with my midnight painting sessions."
"And she still doesn't complain when I stay up too late gaming with Hank," Mike added. "We've got a system."
Zack raised his glass. "To systems. And to friends who turn into statues and come back to life."
"Hear, hear," Judy said, and they all drank.
Mike's tie was still crooked. Casey noticed it for the fifth time that evening, reached over, and straightened it with practiced ease, her fingers lingering on the knot.
"You know," she said, her voice soft, "I've been fixing that tie for twenty years. I'd have thought you'd have learned to knot it properly by now."
Mike caught her hand, brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Nope. That's your job. And since you're the only one who does it right, I'm never going to learn."
Mara made a gagging sound, but she was smiling. "You two are going to give me cavities."
Judy laughed, but there was something in her eyes, a reflected warmth that had everything to do with the sister she'd once barely known and now couldn't imagine life without. "Should I warn you that Jan's on her way over?"
Mike's eyebrows shot up. "Jan? I thought she was flying home to Cameron."
"She was," Judy said, checking her phone. "But apparently Cameron had business out of town, and Jan got bored waiting for a flight. She's bringing—" Judy squinted at the screen. "—a bottle of something called 'Liquid Sunshine' and a crate of mangos."
"That's my Jan," Casey said, shaking her head fondly. "Never travels light."
"Mangos?" Zack repeated, looking confused. "Why mangos?"
Mara patted his knee. "Don't question it, honey. Jan operates on a different plane of logic than the rest of us."
They'd barely finished their mojitos when the door swung open and Jan swept in like a red-haired hurricane. Godfrey trotted at her heels, his tiny Maltese body somehow radiating an expression of long-suffering patience. Jan was wearing a bright orange sundress and flip-flops, her braid swinging, and she carried a mason jar of golden liquid that seemed to glow from within.
"Hello, hello, hello!" she called, setting the jar on the counter and the crate of mangos on the floor. "I heard there was a party, and I wasn't invited."
"You were absolutely invited," Judy said, standing to greet her. "It just would have been an email to your satanic ritual. Or something."
"Details, details." Jan swept Casey into a hug, then Mike, then Mara, then Zack, who accepted it with the resigned grace of a man who'd long ago stopped being surprised by anything Jan did. "Godfrey and I were just sitting by the shore, thinking about the trial, and I thought, 'You know what? Those beautiful bastards need a drink.' So here I am."
Godfrey, as if on cue, let out a small, pointed bark. Then he trotted over to the corner, curled up on a sheepskin rug, and rested his head on his paws with a long, world-weary sigh that seemed far too expressive for a dog of his size.
"He wants you to know he's amenable to being in the room," Jan explained, rolling her eyes, "but he finds human debauchery deeply dull."
Zack squinted at the dog. "He has the soul of a grumpy old man."
"He has the soul of two grumpy old men," Jan corrected, "and possibly a third, we've never quite figured it out. He just keeps coming back. Can't get rid of him, really."
Godfrey's tail wagged once, almost smugly, before he rested his chin back down.
Jan poured glasses of Liquid Sunshine for everyone, and the pale gold liquid warmed their chests and loosened their limbs. The conversation continued, lighter now, the edge of tension well and truly gone. Zack told a story about a research assistant who'd tried to summon a demon for a prank and accidentally summoned the demon's grandmother instead, who had then lectured the assistant and the demon both about their life choices.
"And she brought crafts," Zack said, shaking his head. "She made them all friendship bracelets. They still wear them in the lab sometimes."
Jan, sprawled across the sofa next to Casey, let out a delighted cackle. "I love that. That's beautiful. That's the kind of chaos magic should be about."
Marched on, and the night deepened. The city lights glittered through the glass walls, and the ocean hummed a quiet rhythm beyond the balcony. Casey, warm with Liquid Sunshine and good company, felt the last of the tension drain from her shoulders. She looked at Mike, his hand resting on her thigh, and felt something shift in the air.
It was subtle. A warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. A tingling at the edges of her skin, like static from a storm that hadn't yet arrived.
She turned to look at Jan, who was watching her with those inferno-green eyes, a wicked smile curving her lips.
"Jan," Casey said, her voice coming out breathier than she'd intended. "What did you put in that drink?"
Jan's smile widened. "Oh, you know. A little relaxation herbal. A little mood enhancer. And just a hint of Green Moon magic to get the party started."
Mara raised an eyebrow. "Jan."
"Don't 'Jan' me. You've all been through a lot. You deserve to unwind." Jan sat up, looking around the room with a sparkle of mischief. "And as a Green Moon initiate, it's my sacred duty to ensure that unwinding happens."
The magic was already working their way through the group. Casey felt it in her blood, warmth spreading through muscle and bone. Her skin felt alive, sensitive, every touch amplified. She noticed Mike looked at her differently now, a familiar hunger she hadn't seen in recent memory. Zack had gone still, his brown eyes fixed on Mara in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. Mara eyed him back, lips parting.
Judy rose, moving to the stereo, and music began to fill the room—something low and sensual, a thrumming beat that pulsed like blood. She turned back, and her smile was knowing.
"Jan," Judy said, "you are a menace."
"You love it," Jan replied, standing, her hands starting to move through the air. "That's the first time you've spoken, I think."
"Thank you," Jan said, grinning. "I aim to facilitate joy." She stepped forward, her hands settling on Casey's shoulders, thumbs pressing into the knot of tension at the base of her neck. Casey's head fell back with a groan.
"Oh, God, Jan, where did you learn that—"
"Amateur massage therapy. I went through a phase in my thirties. I spent a very memorable week with a Swedish masseuse in Copenhagen." Jan's hands worked magic, and Casey could feel her bones melting. "Now, I was thinking we could all get a little more comfortable."
She snapped her fingers, and Casey's clothes simply stopped being. One moment she was in her favored linen pants and loose shirt, the next she was naked on the plush sofa, her skin a constellation of middle-aged curves and stretch marks. Mike's sharp intake of breath cut the silence, his eyes traveling her body with apparent fascination.
The same, she noticed, was happening to Mike. His shirt, his slacks, even his boxers, all vanished, and he was naked before her, his cock springing to attention in an instant. That had to be the magic—he was good at concealing his responses, but this was instant and unhesitating.
"Holy—" Mike started, but Jan cut him off with a laugh.
"Just breathe, Mike. Enjoy." She danced over to Mara and Zack, and snapped her fingers. Their clothes evaporated, and Mara's breath caught at the sudden exposure. Zack let out a low "fucking hell" as the cool air of the apartment crashed against his bare skin.
"Jan," Mara said, her voice strangled, "we're in a group. We're—you're—"
"I was thinking about the phrase: 'the best way to get over your inhibitions is to get under someone.'" Jan's smile was pure sin. "Now, I'm going to tend to the mood. You all just relax, feel the air on your skin, and do whatever feels right."
Godfrey let out another sigh, then rested his head on his paws.
Jan's magic rippled through the air, warm and golden, covering the entire room. It brushed over their naked skin, sending shivers down spines, making each sensation feel deeper, more profound. Casey could feel Mike's hand sliding up her side, his touch burning against her skin.
"Mike," she breathed.
His voice was thick, reverent. "You're beautiful, Case. You're the most goddamn beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Pendejo," she managed, but her mouth was on his before she could say another word, her hands cupping his jaw, holding him close. They kissed with a desperation that hadn't dimmed in twenty years, mouths moving together like they were reading from the same script, hands exploring familiar territory with renewed wonder.
Jan moved to Judy, who was watching the couples with a mixture of hunger and hesitation. The older Kapowski sister, ever composed, ever in control, was clearly uncertain how to proceed.
"Judy," Jan said, her voice low and coaxing. "You've been living with this fear for years. You loosened up and let yourself enjoy life. Why don't you come enjoy it with us now? You don't have to watch alone."
Judy's eyes were suspiciously bright. "Jan, I'm—I'm not like you. I'm not like Casey. I'm too uptight, I'm—"
"You're a beautiful woman who spent a lifetime suffocating under other people's expectations." Jan's hands settled on Judy's hips, pulling her close. "And I happen to think it's time you discovered what you've been missing."
Judy let out a breath that might have been a sob. But she didn't pull away. Jan leaned in and kissed her, and the kiss was gentle at first, then hungrier, and Judy's hands came up to grip Jan's shoulders.
Mara and Zack had found each other, their bodies interlocking on the other end of the sofa. Mara's hands were in Zack's hair, pulling him down as she arched up against him. Zach's mouth was on her breast, tongue curling around her nipple.
"Oh, yes," Mara moaned, her head falling back. "Fuck, that's good. How do you still know exactly how I like that?"
"Because I've been paying attention for twenty years," Zack said, lifting his head to grin at her. "It's called love, Mara. Also, observation."
"I love your brain, Zack."
"You love my ministrations too."
Shut up and kiss me.
He did.
Casey watched them from the corner of her eye while Mike's mouth trailed down her throat, his beard scratching deliciously against her skin. She let out a breathy curve of a laugh. "Look at them. Twenty years, and he still makes her blush."
Mike nuzzled against her collarbone. "Fuck, Case. You smell so good. I want to taste every inch of you."
The magic was in his voice, raw and hungry, and Casey felt her body respond with a flood of heat. She reached down, wrapping her fingers around his cock, stroking him slowly.
"Then do it," she said, her voice low. "Show me what you want."
Mike drew back, and the look in his eyes was pure devotion. He dipped his head, dragging a wet line down her sternum, over the swell of her belly, until he reached the vee of her thighs. Casey let out a gasp, your back against the velvet cushion, when his mouth found her.
He ate her with reverence, every sweep of his tongue deliberate, every suction and stroke precise. It was like he'd never lost his way. He knew her body better than he knew his own. His tongue found her clit, encircled it, and bucked when he sucked it between his lips.
"Yes," she gasped. "Mike, God, yes, right there, don't stop, don't you dare stop."
Jan had left Judy momentarily, busying herself with the logistics of seduction, but she returned with a smile, settling on the floor beside the sofa to watch the older couple. She reached a hand out, stroking Casey's thigh, and Casey nearly came off the couch.
"Jan—" Casey managed, her voice ragged. "Help me—"
"Not yet, love. I want to see you come on your husband's tongue first." Jan began to move, a slow, deliberate lap, which was anything but idle. She didn't touch herself. She was entirely focused on the scene before her, her eyes greedy. "Let me watch. Let me enjoy."
It was too much. The combined assault of Mike's mouth and Jan's gaze shattered her. She screamed, a long, ringing sound as her hips bucked against his face. There was a soft, wet praise and the sound of him drinking, and she was still trembling when Jan moved away.
Mike surfaced, his face glistening from his wife. He looked at Casey with raw, naked adoration. "I love you."
"I love you, too. Now get up here and fuck me."
He did. He obeyed her command instantly, a hand found his cock, positioning it. She surged up her hips. He slid in with a groan that was born of pure animal satisfaction. The connection was thick and perfect, the kind of connection that twenty years of intimacy produced. Mike set a pace that was measured, patient, designed to wring every ounce of pleasure from both of them.
Casey's hands found his ass, pulling him deeper. "More, baby. Give me more."
"I'm trying, I'm—" He lost his words, losing himself in the sensation. "You feel—fucking incredible. You always do. You're so wet, Case."
She laughed, strained. "You do that to me."
Judy, meanwhile, had been drawn into Jan's orbit. Now she was on her knees, her face buried between Jan's thighs, tasting her with the desperation of a woman discovering a long-forbidden fruit. Jan lay back, her eyes closed, Godfrey watching from his corner with a look of transcendental boredom.
"Oh, Judy," Jan groaned. "That's beautiful. That's so beautiful. Open your mouth for me. Let me feel you."
Judy obeyed, plunging her tongue deep into Jan's heat. The redhead let out a stream of obscenities and blessings, her hips rocking against Judy's face. Her hands fisted in the other woman's hair.
Mara and Zack had moved to the floor, spreading a blanket over the hardwoods, and Mara had claimed him, straddling his hips, riding him with a rhythm that had a primal efficiency and sexual purpose. Her hands were braced on his chest, her head thrown back, her breasts bouncing with each stroke, skin flushed with a sheen of sweat under the low light.
"Fucking hell, Mara," Zack gasped, his hands gripping her hips. "You're going to kill me."
"You'll die happy," she said, grinning, and her voice broke into a moan.
"Happy doesn't cover it—oh God—right there, right there, keep doing that—"
He reached up, fingers closing around her nipple, and she let out a sound that was half scream, half whimper. She leaned forward, her mouth finding his, and they kissed with bruising intensity as she continued to ride him.
Jan had gotten Judy on her back now, the older woman surrendering to the pleasure with a passion that surprised even herself. Jan's fingers slipped inside her, curling with expertise, and Judy cried out, her back bowing off the floor.
"Oh—oh, Jan—I didn't know—I never knew it could be like this—"
"Everyone can be taught," Jan said, tongue painting a wet tattoo across Judy's chest. "You just had to have the right teacher."
"Who knew it would be you?" asked Judy, who was incoherent with pleasure.
"Everyone. Everyone knew. I'm a delight."
She proved it, with her fingers and her mouth, until Judy was sobbing in release. Jan kissed her with terrible tenderness.
Mike had Casey on all fours now, the angle new and perfect as he pushed deep from behind. Her nails raked carpet, her muscles bunched.
"Fuck, Mike, harder. Fuck me like you mean it."
"I always mean it," he said, and obliged. His hands bruising her hips, sweat slicking his brow. Their bodies slapped together. The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure—wet, rhythmic, filthy, and achingly intimate.
Casey looked over her shoulder at him, eyes dark and wild. "Don't stop. Don't you dare stop. I'm close, I'm so close—"
"Let go, baby. I've got you."
She did, she shattered with a shout and a curse, her body clenching around him. That was all he needed. He came with a grunt through his teeth, hips stuttering, holding her close.
Across the room, Jan had pulled Judy on top of her, guiding the woman's hips as they came together in a rhythm that was part sacred, part sordid. Judy's head thrown back, her face a study in ecstasy.
"I feel—" Judy gasped, "I feel beautiful."
"You are beautiful, Judy. You always have been," Jan told her, wrapping her arms around her.
Mara and Zack had finished, collapsing together in a tangle of limbs, and Zack was stroking her hair as she nuzzled his chest. They watched the others with the satisfied glow of shared experience.
Jan's eyes found Mike and Casey, and her smile softened. "You two," she said, "are a beautiful thing."
Casey pushed hair from her face, sweaty and sated, and laughed. "You're one to talk."
"I'm just the facilitator." Jan pulled Judy up and kissed her, both smiling, before releasing her. "I just give the nudge and see what happens."
The room bellied up to a well-earned calm. Sweaty bodies draped over furniture, the faint scent of sex and the ocean. Casey lay in Mike's arms, her head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. She was in the state between full wakefulness and sleep when she felt teeth graze her neck and the warm breath of Jan in her ear.
"Well," Jan whispered, "since the night is young, and I feel a second wind coming on, shall we take a trip to the balcony?"
Casey's eyes snapped open, a tremor working through her body. She turned her head, met Jan's gaze, and her smile was all teeth.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Oh, nothing too complicated. Just a little moonlight. A little breeze. A little more of that Green Moon magic. You and me and Mike maybe. I like the view."
Mike, who had been dozing, stirred at the sound of his name. "Hmm? What? Did I miss something?"
"You're about to be part of something," Jan told him, her fingers walking down his chest. "Something glorious and dirty and thoroughly amazing." She gestured to the balcony. "What do you say?"
Mike looked at Casey. Casey shrugged. "I've had worse offers."
They rose from the sofa, a tangle of limbs and laughter. Jan led them through the glass door to the balcony, where the moonlight painted the ocean silver. The air was warm, salt-scented, alive with the hum of the city. Below them, yachts bobbed in the marina; above, the stars were shamelessly, impossibly, bright.
Jan positioned herself against the railing, turning her back to the sea, and held out her arms to Casey. The other woman came to her willingly, pressing up against Jan's body, their curves fitting together with a naturalness that took even Jan by surprise.
"Hello," Jan said.
"Hello," Casey echoed.
They kissed, slow at first, then deeper. Casey tasted of mojito and salt and satisfaction. Jan tasted like sunshine and sin. Their hands explored each other as if they had never touched before, rediscovering the landscape as each other's skin.
Mike stepped up behind Casey, his arms wrapping around her, his cock pressing against her ass. She leaned back into him, moaning.
"You two," she breathed. "You're going to be the death of me."
"Only the good kind," Jan said, her lips finding Casey's throat. "The heart attack you'll be bragging about in the afterlife."
Jan's fingers found Casey's clit, circling with expertise. Casey gasped, her hips grinding forward into Jan's hand, back onto her husband's cock. Mike's mouth worked against her neck, and she was caught between them, a sandwich of pleasure, until she lost all sense of where one ended and another began.
The three of them moved together on that moonlit balcony, a dance as old as time. The city glittered below, and the ocean hummed its ancient tune. Their pleasure was raw, explicit, unimpeachable. It was a celebration of survival, of kinship, of the simple, glorious fact of being alive.
And in the corner, Godfrey III watched them through the glass door, his tiny head tilted, his eyes heavy with a boredom that transcended lifetimes. He let out a long, low sigh, and curled back up on the sheepskin rug, dreaming of bones and fields and the eternal, glorious hunt of a squirrel that would never be caught.
Outside, the three figures found their release together.
Inside, the dog slept, and the world continued.